


The Avengers are Children

by DeanIsSaved



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Clint Tony and Bruce are bffs, Crack, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, avengers fluff, everything is domestic avengers and nothing hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5658964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanIsSaved/pseuds/DeanIsSaved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve and Natasha leave for a mission, Tony, Clint, and Bruce are left home alone for a day of shenanigans. Pure fluff and lame nerds</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Avengers are Children

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably not very good and contains a lot of grammatical errors so please point those out for me please and thank you

Steve and Natasha were suiting up, leaving in 10 minutes on the avenjet for a super-secret mission in a super-secret location.

“But why did they pick you two? Quite frankly, I’m offended.” Tony put his hands over his chest in mock-offense. Thor was taking time in Asgard, leaving Tony, Bruce, and Clint to be ditched in the tower. 

“Because.” Said Steve, tugging on his helmet. “It’s a small mission, SHEILD doesn’t need the whole team.” 

“And they said they needed agents that follow orders, which does not include any of you.” Natasha voiced. 

“Yeah. Good call.”

“Understandable.” 

“Probably for the best.” 

Natasha smirked and finished buckling her suit, and they stepped inside the elevator and out of view. 

“So now what?” Asked Clint. 

“Now that the meanies are gone, we can do whatever we want. I have over a pound of raw cookie dough just for this occasion.” Tony smiled triumphantly. 

Bruce shrugged, not convinced. “I don’t know… I was planning on documenting my research on the effects of gamma radiation on-” 

“There’s aaaabsolutely no way I’m letting that happen. Isn’t there something crazy you want to do while you have the chance?” 

Bruce considered. “Well… not really. But as a kid, I never made a pillow fort-” 

“PILLOW FORT” Screamed Clint at the top of his lungs, and the mini team set about making a legendary pillow fort.

 

 

“Clint, stop sticking arrows into the furniture to hold sheets in place.” 

“No. It adds aura.” 

“Bruce, come here. If I place this sheet at a 75 degree angle, would it make more architectural sense to clip this one over here at 45 or 60 considering the slight draft from the vent in sector 4?” 

“Definitely 60.” 

“Is that a birds nest? Did you literally just make a birds nest, Clint? Clint.” 

“How do you think I got my name? It’s not because I imitate the lifestyle of a goldfish.” 

“Bruce, I’m under those pillows.” 

“Whoops.”

 

45 minutes later, and the trio had built a giant pillow fort surrounding the television, complete with secret tunnels that let out at different places and a stash of big, fluffy pillows right in front of the tv. They all settled down to play a video game Clint had found featuring themselves and a variety of other superheroes. Clint (as Antman) and Tony (as Ms. Marvel) took Bruce down almost immediately (who was playing as Thor), but Tony just barely beat Clint. 

“Yes! Carol wins every time.” Tony said, scooping another bite of cookie dough into his mouth. 

“That was bogus. You didn’t win because of skill. You just starting firing energy blasts everywhere and I was the size of an _ant_.” 

“Hmm, that’s funny, because I still won.” 

“Rematch?” 

“You’re on.” 

In a surprising twist, Bruce (playing as Spiderman) took down Tony (Human Torch, who bore striking resemblance to Steve, he noted) and Clint (as DareDevil).

 

 

“You have a ping-pong table and you _never told me?_ ” Clint looked truly outraged at the prospect. 

“You see, it’s a really nice ping pong table, and I kinda wanted to keep it not-destroyed. But, It’s bound to happen sooner or later, so, wanna play?” 

“YES” Shouted Clint, triumphant smile on his face. 

“No way!” Bruce reasoned with Tony. “Clint is a master marksman. Neither of us would stand a chance, Tony. It would be a massacre.” 

Clint overdramatically cleaned his nails with one hand, while leaning with the other onto the wall. “ _Well,_ ” he drawled. “I’m not gonna fight that facts.” 

“Come on, Bruce. The two of us against him. That’s fair.” 

Bruce straightened up. “Fine. Its _on,_ Barton. Where’s the table?” 

“JARVIS?” Called out Tony. 

“Right away, sir.” Came the British AI, and in the center of the common floor a ping pong table arose from the seemingly smooth ground. 

“Cool” Clint grinned and removed two of the red paddles that were attached to the side of the table. He spun them around in his grip, waist-level, giving him the image of an old timey cowboy preparing for a duel. To emphasize, he blew on each of the ping-pong paddles as if there was gun smoke. “Pardners” 

Tony smiled mischievously and set the ball. Clint fired it back at an alarming speed, and Bruce barely had time to hit it only for it to be rocketed right back, earning Clint a point. 

“Bruce, I believe we may have made a huge mistake.” 

“Yeah.”

 

The day was dwindling, a glimmering sun setting behind the picturesque silhouettes of skyscrapers. The day had been filled with a variety of video and board games (Clint: “There’s no fucking way I’m playing trivial pursuit with you guys"), a home video imitating the iconic dance from Risky Business, and two failed attempts at a homemade cake. 

The night found the trio back in the comfort of the pillow fort, mesmerized by the Jedi on screen. 

“Oh big mistake bud. Those _were_ the droids you were looking for.” 

“Shhh!” 

Tony looked bewildered. “What? Are they going to hear me?”

 

 

Steve was honestly more nervous about what kind of mayhem Tony, Clint, and the seemingly shy Bruce had unleashed upon New York City than the SHEILD mission they had just returned from. The elevator silently slotted open, and Steve almost had a heart attack. If he could. “What happened? Were we attacked?” 

Natasha just sighed. “I believe they attempted to build a pillow fort.”

“But-but the mess-“ 

“Have you _met_ them?” 

“Uh, Jarvis? Where are Bruce Clint and Tony now?” 

“Inside Fort Death Star.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes, and led Steve into the surprisingly roomy fort. 

“This thing is more elaborate than HYDRA’ s computer security.” Said Steve, examining the structurally sound sheets hanging around them.

“Oh my god.” Said Nat as she came upon the three sleeping builders. On and in a pile of plush pillows and blankets, the trio was smushed together and on top of each other, deeply asleep. Tony, in the middle, had somehow stretched out to smush his face against Bruce’s abdomen while the rest of him was draped over the form of Barton. Clint was in the very strange position that gave the impression that he was skiing, and Bruce had clearly fallen asleep in the middle of eating an ice pop. 

It took all of three seconds for Natasha to whip out her phone and start snapping photos as Steve struggled to contain his laughter. “This is going to everyone. Does Asgard have cell reception?”

 

Two mornings later, and the now full team was lazing about the table for breakfast and discussing a memo from Phil Coulson.

“Did you use private SHEILD intel to choose characters for a video game?” Steve asked over his eggs. 

“Those were private?” Tony shot back, and Clint snorted into his coffee. 

“Okay. Well, no more fooling around, or at least not to such and extreme extent. Understood?” 

Tony saluted. “Aye aye Cap'n”

 

Clint was cleaning arrows on his floor at the top of the tower when Jarvis unexpectedly spoke. “Secret Operation is ago. I repeat, Secret Operation is ago.” Clint’s eyes widened, and he abandoned his arrows in favor of rushing down to Tony’s lab. 

“Alright. We know the rules. Wear protective gear at all times, and tell absolutely _no one_ about this. Agreed?” 

“Agreed.” Bruce and Clint confirmed in unison. 

“Let the battle begin.” 

And with that, three fully functioning lightsabers were unsheathed with a satisfying _WHEEW_.


End file.
